


Crossroads

by Rebel_Atar



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, kinkmeme prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 22:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15716418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Atar/pseuds/Rebel_Atar
Summary: A little coda to the scene in Season Three, Episode One. Chandler takes Kent to the crossroads to calm his fears.





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Chandler/Kent - the aftermath of that adorable scene in 3x01 when Chandler takes Kent out to the crossroads to put his mind to ease about the whole evil spirit thing, pretty please?

It had been an unsettling car journey.

 

Not just because Kent's head was swirling with supposition and superstition alike. The impossibility of a vanishing killer in the dark, rippling against all the psychic and supernatural nonsense his Aunt had tried to fill his head with growing up.

DI Chandler was an arms reach away. Calm and sure in the face of an unknown killer. Every turn of the wheel smooth, every change of gear perfectly timed.

Kent couldn't imagine being so put together. It was made even more impressive by the times he'd seen him fall apart.

Chandler's words at the crossroads weren't the most reassuring. Though they did serve to drive home the fact that Kent's thoughts were completely irrational. Hysteria would get him nowhere.

 

It was good of the DI, Kent thought, to bring him here after their shift was over. More than most would do for their subordinates. He cared, about all of them really, but Kent knew he felt it the keenest.

Between the kindness and the way Chandler looked in his sharp suit and overcoat was it any wonder Kent was half gone over his DI. More than half, if he was honest with himself. He knew he didn't compare, in his M&S suit with his old leather jacket slid on over the top of it.

 

After his solemn message, to make sure they caught the right man, Chandler turned and offered Kent a tired smile.

"Come on then, I'll give you a lift home."

 

They piled back into the car, which matched its owners sleekness beautifully, and Kent felt himself relax a little. Chandler was right. He was a detective, dealing in myths wasn't going to get him anywhere, they needed facts.

The journey to his flat passed much quickly than Kent would have liked and soon enough they were pulling in to park on the street opposite his building. His own side of the road was already packed with cars.

 

Chandler turned in his seat, laying a hand across Kent's knee as he went to open the door. "How are you feeling now? Any better for that talk?"

 

His voice was soft. Whether because it was getting late or because of something else Kent couldn't tell, but it felt as though his entire body had been narrowed down to that one point of contact. "I-" He swallowed nervously, cutting himself off. "Yes, Sir."

 

Chandler smiled. "I think we can dispense with the 'Sir' after hours. Are you alright, Kent? You're a little flushed."

 

Kent was pretty sure his cheeks were red enough to be seen from Tower Bridge right now but he wasn't going to call his boss on it. "I'm fine, Si-. Umm. I mean, I'm fine."

 

"You can call me Joe, you know. After everything we've been through the past two years, not to mention Miles' house parties and Mansell's wedding, it's hardly inappropriate."

 

Kent thought he might spontaneously combust. "Alright...Joe." He said with a shy smile. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to manage to keep a straight face in the office tomorrow.

 

"Will you be alright on your own?" Chandler nodded in the direction of Kent's flat.

 

"Yes, Joe."

 

"Are you sure?" A thumb stroked over his kneecap and Kent had to suppress the shiver that went down his spine.

 

"Joe?"

 

Chandler smiled at him, and it wasn't a smile Kent was particularly familiar with. It tugged one side of his lip up a little higher than the other, still open and honest but almost verging on a smirk. It reminded him of when Joe had come back from fighting Jimmy Brooks. Blood streaked across his face and veins full of a half bottle of vodka but somehow more alive than he'd thought it possible for his DI to look.

 

"Would you like some company?"

 

Emerson Kent felt all his fears from earlier in the evening fall away as his universe seemed to condense itself down into this one, perfect, moment. He could feel his cheeks burning and tugged his lower lip between his teeth to hide his wide smile.

 

"Yeah. If you like."

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom and I hope I'm doing it justice.


End file.
